Huntsville is getting ready to welcome the world to the G8 Summit. So are the blackflies, but that's another matter entirely.
The infamous G8 Fence is almost complete. It's not pretty. My suggestion that it be painted bright Pink to mimic the wrapped islands in the style of the artist Christo met with disapproval. One can but try.
Not that many folks are going to see those fences, if all goes according to plan. Vehicles will be detoured around Hwy. 60. So we have to enjoy this while we can. There are new stoplights, and the road is down to one lane -- this is to let the workers erect the fencing without risking being run over. Good plan.
Not taking any chances, however, it's not enough to set up stoplights. You have to wait to follow a Pilot Vehicle. Just in case you've forgotten that red is for stop and wait until the lights turn green. One can never be too careful.
A low flying Hercules aircraft causes the ground to shake and rumble. We know. One flew over us almost low enough to hand up a cup of coffee last week. This is the chapter in which we learn that the ground shake produced by such a big engine overhead is enough to trip car alarms. What fun!
The town looks very nice. There are tons of flowers, everything is clean and shiny. Dr. Hunt, who founded the place in the 1800's, would be very pleased.
You can buy an Obama Muffin at Soul Sistas restaurant, a Canada Maple Leaf at Seven Main. The Chip Truck by the bridge is into political lobbying. Obama for Prime Minister... maybe... perhaps we could just do a straight swap: give them Harper, we'll take Obama. Just a thought.
Army trucks are everywhere. The boys (and no doubt the girls) in camoflage are in all sorts of unlikely places. Deerhurst is now closed to the public. Last minute details are being fine tuned, and the clock ticks forward. It's all got this frenzied sense of something impending and huge on the one hand.
While on the other, at Huntsville's waterfront, life could not look more serene.
For our guests arriving this weekend, it will be a curious adventure coming face-to-face with the preparations underway. Next week, we will have other guests, more familiar with this sort of game.
And then it will be summer, and life will ebb back to the normal. We'll be able to hear the loons over the rumble of the F18's. Boats will be back on the lakes. Detours will come down. The last Obama muffin will be munched. Muskoka -- who never asked for all this fol-de-rol in the first place -- will return to her natural beauty, imbuing a sense of well-being into all who visit her.
So, folks, get off the shore of Lake Waste-of-my-Taxes in Toronto, and come on up. It's fabulous here!
Brian won't let me visit and take photos. I am so disappointed. I get into trouble without trying, he says.
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